


A Long Way Down

by themoonandotherslikeit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Angst, Fireworks, Hurt/Comfort, I love these two idiots, Love, M/M, One Shot, Romance, Team Free Will, The Fall - Freeform, fourth of the july, human!Cas, kiss, otp, shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 22:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19733008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoonandotherslikeit/pseuds/themoonandotherslikeit
Summary: After the gates to Heaven were slammed shut, Castiel struggles with his loss of grace. When Team Free Will finishes up taking care of a vampire nest, Dean decides that it was time they take 5. They deserve it, especially Castiel. So, he takes advantage of the Fourth of July holiday to sit back, relax, and enjoy some fireworks.





	A Long Way Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thescreechowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescreechowl/gifts).



> So you start again  
> Pick up where you stopped  
> You beg to be like them  
> But still refuse to knock  
> And i heard you when you called  
> Heard you saying  
> Hope in what you cannot see  
> Hope is not some guarantee  
> \- Fall, by Joshua Hyslop

The case was over. Dean Winchester stared into the shower head and let the water wash over him. It was hot and refreshing, which was saying a lot for a pay-by-the-hour, cash only motel room. The water didn’t taste like pennies, and it wasn’t too hot or too cold. They won. It was just a vamps nest, but a win is a win. His palms pressed against the tile, and he closed his eyes.

The case was over, and it was the Fourth of July. He and Sammy loved the Fourth as kids, but since they were adults they hadn’t gotten to celebrate. Not properly, but this time they would. Dean packed the trunk of the Impala with tons of fireworks, and he found the most stunning cliff side to shoot them off of. Beer and fireworks, that was the American Dream, and he couldn’t wait to show it to Cas.

Ever since the fall, Cas had been different. He was lost. Dean caught him staring up at the sky way too frequently. There was a longing in the angels blue eyes. Sometimes when they’d drive, he’d roll down his window and just close his eyes. Dean could watch him then. With Sammy asleep in the backseat, and Castiel’s eyes closed, there was no one to catch him staring. Dean was always looking at Cas when the angel wasn’t looking.

Dean turned off the water and wrapped the towel around his waist. He wiped the fog off the mirror with his palm, to catch a glimpse of his reflection. His lip was busted open. The bottom was more swollen to the right side. The shower washed away most of the evidence of the fight they’d been in, but the purple bruise under his eye and the open wound on his lip told the true story. He stood under the shower head until the russet water ran clear. It was a baptism. He was becoming clean.

Dean placed a wide smile on his face, despite the sting and pull of his swollen bottom lip, and pushed out of the bathroom, steam spilling out.

“’Bout time,” Sam grumbled. “We thought you drowned in there.” The younger Winchester sat with his long legs propped up on the table, and his computer resting on his lap. “We could get on the road, I caught wind of a case a few states over.”

Dean frowned, his eyebrows coming together. “It can wait ‘til tomorrow, Sammy.”

“Why would we wait?” Sam asked, typing away. The clicks of his keyboard went rhythmically with the angry hum of the air conditioner.

“Because.” Dean eyed his brother. “Come on, man.” His eyes flickered to Castiel instinctively. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back curved in a C-shape. His chin rested in his palms. He wore a simple white t-shirt and a pair of jeans. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

Worrying about Cas wasn’t a new thing for Dean, and most of the time it felt like a job. Watch out for Cas. Make sure Cas sleeps. Make sure he’s eating. Are his fucking shoes tied? They were all things the angel didn’t have to worry about before. If Dean was caught staring at least he had an excuse. _“Just worried about you, Buddy.”_

“Am I missing something here?” Sam asked, tiredly. He mindlessly grabbed for his coffee, his eyes not leaving the laptop screen.

“You’re gonna ruin your eyes,” Dean said, shutting his brothers screen.

“What the fuck, man?”

“We need a break,” Dean said, eyeing Castiel again. “And it’s the Fourth. I got the perfect place to celebrate.”

Sam snorted. “I didn’t take you as patriotic, Dean.”

“Yeah, well bah humbug to you, too.” Dean walked to Cas, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What do you think? Up for a break?”

“What?” Castiel asked tiredly, looking up at Dean. Sometimes, when he looked at Dean it was like he was staring into the sun, like it hurt. His eyes would squint, and he’d turn away. This time was no different. His eyes scanned up Dean’s bare stomach and chest, still sparkling with water from the shower. Then he squinted and looked away. “Sorry, I was thinking.”

“Well, don’t hurt yourself,” Dean said, awkwardly shifting his weight. “I was just thinkin’ maybe we all deserve a break. Burgers, beer, the whole nine. What do you think?”

“I think,” Castiel began, his eyebrows together, “if there is bacon on the burgers, I think that could be nice.”

Dean couldn’t help the grin that tugged on the corners of his mouth. “I can make that happen.”

“Great,” Sam sighed, rubbing his eyes. There wasn’t much rest for any of them, but Sam specifically. The trials wore on him physically, but there was more that haunted him. There was a lot under that beautiful head of hair that he didn’t share with his brother. “I guess you’re right. I’ll make a call to make sure someone else covers the case.”

“Well, since we have your permission.” Dean laughed, rolling his eyes. “Let’s get packed up.”

“Yeah, start with putting on a shirt, Fabio.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Dean waived Sam off, and grabbed his clothes to get dressed.

****

Dean went for all the stops. He sat up the ice chest, full of beer, and three folding chairs. He kicked off his boots and socks, and rested a pair of sunglasses on his nose. “This is the life, guys.”

Sam grunted a response and opened up a book.

“Are you seriously reading?” Dean let his sunglasses slide down his nose so he could eye his brother properly.

“You said we deserve a break. I agree. So, let me have my break.” Sam glared back at Dean, before burying his nose back into his book.

“So lame,” Dean complained quietly. He pushed his glasses back on his nose and instinctively found Castiel standing awkwardly near the edge of the cliff side, overlooking the lake below. There was a sadness in Castiel that Dean could see even from behind. He didn’t stand like a soldier anymore. He stood like he was carrying something unbelievably heavy. His shoulders came together and his back curved. He held the beer that Dean provided him with in his hands like a life preserver, he gripped it like it’d keep him from drowning.

Dean wanted to reach out to him. He wanted to put an arm around him and tell him that whatever was getting to him wasn’t something he had to shoulder alone. They could do anything together. The news of Castiel’s new human state was something that Dean didn’t expect. Cas was always this other worldly being. He was much too great for Dean. Especially since Castiel knew what Dean did in Hell, and what Dean did on Earth. There wasn’t time for redemption for Dean, not really. Sam talked about becoming pure with the trials, but there was no purifying Dean Winchester. He knew that, and he was sure that Cas knew it, too.

So, no matter how much Dean wanted to walk up behind Castiel and pull him close, and tell him that everything would be okay. No matter how much he wanted to lace their fingers and cuddle close, watching the fireworks explode in the distance, he couldn’t. He never would be able to. Castiel didn’t have to have grace, because he _was_ grace. That didn’t change just because he was human. It levelled the playing field a bit, but not enough to give Dean the permission that he needed.

So, instead of walking up to Castiel, Dean leaned over and clicked on his radio, letting the classic rock pulse through him, through his veins, right into his heart. He put his beer to his lips and drank it down eagerly. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about Castiel, about the trials, about anything other than the steady sound of drums coming out of the shitty radio speakers, and the hum of static from the poor reception up on the cliff side.

The sun dipped below the cliff and the water, leaving the air a cool breeze that tickled Dean’s face. His eyes shot open, his beer was warm in his hand.

Dean was dreaming, before. He laid in the grass, looking out at the clouds. Cas was there next to him, and he was smiling widely. _“So you’re sayin’ you really never sat on a cloud?”_

_“What is your obsession with angels on clouds, Dean?”_

_“Guess it’s just always been the image. Did you at least wear the toga thing?”_ It gave Dean some kind of pleasure, getting under Cas’ skin.

_“No. We don’t play harps either, so don’t ask.”_

_“So sensitive,”_ Dean complained.

Dean didn’t know it, until he turned to catch a glimpse at Cas, but Castiel had wings. He had these big, gorgeous black feathered wings. He rolled onto his side to look at Dean, his wing wrapping around Dean’s side, pulling him into Castiel’s embrace.

_“What’re you doin’?”_

_“I am doing what you are too afraid to.”_

Then Castiel kissed him. He pressed his full lips to Dean’s and took the breath right out of Dean’s lungs. His wing was warm and soft against Dean’s back, and it pulled Castiel and Dean closer together. 

Dean sighed into Castiel’s lips, and he wanted to cry. He could feel it bubbling in his chest. It was an electricity that sparked between them, making his skin tingle. He could feel Castiel’s breath on his lips and his heartbeat against Dean’s own racing heart.

But angels didn’t need to breathe. Vessels hearts didn’t beat. Cas was human.

Dean woke up to the sensation of falling. “Shit.” He stretched with a yawn and pulled his sunglasses off. Sam was over halfway through his book, now using his phone as a light. 

Castiel was sitting in the same spot that he was previously standing. His knees were pressed to his chest, and his arms curled around them to hold them in place. He looked unbelievably small. Despite being thousands of years old, the guy looked almost child-like, with his face turned up to the dark sky.

“Alright.” Dean clapped, standing up. “Let’s get the show started.”

Sam squinted, looking up from his book. “Show?”

“Yeah!” Dean grinned widely, unlocking the trunk. “The show!” He pulled out handfuls of fireworks.

“Oh hell yeah,” Sam mused, putting his book down.

“See? We can be fun. Cas, get over here! Let’s blow some shit up!”

Castiel turned to look at him. He squinted, standing up slowly. “What is that?”

“Fireworks. I’m sure you’ve heard of ‘em,” Dean said with a growing grin.

Ever since the gates of Heaven were slammed shut, holding onto hope felt something like lassoing a rocket ship. It kept taking flight. Dean just wanted to give Cas one thing. One thing to smile about. One thing to let go of that guilt that they all were so used to carrying.

“I have heard of them.” He wiped the dirt off his pants, but he didn’t move any closer.

“Come on, man. They won’t bite,” Dean insisted, holding out a lit punk to Castiel. “It’s fun. I promise.”

Sam was way ahead of them, his inner child taking the reigns. He held the firecracker in his hand and lit the fuse. He extended his arm well above his head, sending it shooting out into space. It exploded above their heads and rained down red speckles of fire through the black night sky.

“Woo!” Dean cheered, pumping his fist. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about! Light ‘em up, Sammy.”

His eyes scanned to Castiel. He caught his expression in the flames. Sam lit another and it exploded with a crack and a sizzle. “Cas,” Dean whispered.

The man’s face glowed red and from their short distance, Dean could see the wetness in Cas’ eyes. A tear rolled down his cheek, and his hand rested against his chest. He winced at another crack and as Dean approached him, he was finally able to turn his face away from the fireworks. “Hey,” Dean touched his shoulder. “You good?”

“Fine,” Castiel muttered.

“Hey, I’m the professional at that. Don’t work on me. Try again.”

“I…” His eyes flickered up to meet Dean’s. There was desperation, pain, and the reflection of falling sparks from the sky in them. There was something broken in Castiel. They’d all known it, but as Dean stared into his eyes, he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to fix it.

“You can tell me.” Dean squeezed his shoulder gently. “Whatever it is, I got you.”

“It’s the… the fireworks,” Castiel finally managed, between trembling lips and shallow breaths.

“Too loud?”

“No… it…” He took a deep breath and clasped his hands together. He turned toward the sky, where Sam exploded another firecracker. “See there at the end? When the sparks fall back to earth?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s what it was like, Dean,” Cas said quietly, his breath barely above a whisper.

“It’s like what?”

“The fall. Plunging through the air, on fire, wings burning away in the atmosphere.” Castiel gripped mindlessly at his back, like a scratch he could never quite itch.

“Shit, I didn’t… I’m sorry, Cas. I didn’t think..”

“It’s okay, Dean. It’s time I move on,” Castiel said, but Dean didn’t think he looked very convincing. His chin fell to his chest, his eyes landing on the ground.

“Hey.” Dean stuck his finger under Castiel’s chin, tilting his head up so they were looking at each other. His face lit up from below now, Sam was setting off a ground fountain. “You don’t have to move on, Cas. You’ve been strong enough, man.”

“I don’t feel strong,” he admitted.

“Maybe not, but I can be strong enough for both of us.”

“You are truly one of a kind, Dean Winchester.”

“You too, Buddy.” Dean’s fingers fell from Cas’ chin, and Castiel caught them in his hand. Deans eyes flickered down at their fingers, suddenly painfully aware of the dirt under his fingers and the clammy layer of sweat across his palm. Castiel didn’t seem to mind, as he squeezed Dean’s fingers. “I just wanted you to have somethin’ good,” he muttered.

“I do have something good,” Castiel said, his voice still coming out ragged and pained.

“You aren’t an angel, Cas. I know that’s killin’ you. Believe me, being human ain’t all it’s cracked up to be…”

“But you’re human, Dean.”

“Yeah, So?”

“So,” Castiel began, sucking in his breath. “I grew up with hundreds of brothers and sisters. There were countless. We all stood for something. We followed orders, but it wasn’t until I pulled you out of Hell that I learned something.”

“What did you learn?” Dean looked at Castiel through his eyelashes, hanging on every word.

“Family is about who you choose and life isn’t about orders. Life is about living. You always… you made humanity look good, Dean. I never wanted it before you.”

“I make everything look good,” Dean joked dryly, lacing his fingers with Castiel’s completely.

Castiel smiled at the poor attempt at a joke, with a little nod. “It hurts to think about what I lost. Flying. Heaven. My wings. My grace. I miss these things. They were always there and remembering is painful. It’s that feeling in your stomach when you need to eat, that growling emptiness. Sometimes I feel so empty.”

“I’m sor…”

“No,” Castiel said, raising his hands to stop Dean. “Don’t apologize. Let me finish. It makes me sad. It hurts.” He gripped his shirt in his fist, right above his heart. “But being here… being with you. I wouldn’t change it. I fell a long time before I was hurled out of the sky, Dean. I fell for humanity.”

Dean’s eyes locked with Castiel’s, as the man took half a step closer, closing the space between them. Dean was frozen in space, his breath hitching in his throat. “Yeah.”

“I fell for humanity, and I fell for you.”

Dean reached across his body with his free hand and pinched his arm hard. “Ow,” he whispered. _Not dreamin’_. He closed his eyes, processing. “Are you…”

He couldn’t finish his breath. It mumbled and fell into the warmth of the angel against his mouth. The kiss was quick, but sure. Castiel felt solid against Dean, the length of his body pressed against the hunters. He pulled back and stared into Dean’s eyes intently. His blue eyes were almost glowing. They had a sparkle to them. He looked alive. “I’m sorry,” Castiel said breathlessly. “I am having a difficult time controlling my emotions since the loss of my grace…”

Dean smiled and brushed Castiel’s cheekbone with his thumb. “Don’t be sorry. Ya know, I’ve been wantin’ to tell you for awhile.”

“Tell me what?”

“That I fell for you, too.”

“Uh,” Sam cleared his throat. He held out two sparklers that glittered and sparked. His cheeks were glowing pink against the flames, and he smiled sheepishly at the two of them. “Wanna do some sparklers?”

Dean touched his bottom lip where he could still feel the pressure from Castiel’s kiss, and he laughed. “What do you think, Cas? Up for a sparkler?”

Castiel looked at Dean, his face lit up from the bright sparks coming out of the firework, and he smiled. “Yes. I think I’d like to try.”

Sam handed them each a sparkler, and Dean watched Castiel’s eyes light up as he stared into the flames. “Look,” Dean said, showing him how when he moves the sparkler quickly it leaves a trial of glowing lines behind the sparkler.

“It’s like magic.” Castiel said, grabbing at the frantic lines as they disappeared. He pulled his own sparkler up and tested out drawing shapes in the night air. They watched swirls and lines fade into the darkness.

Dean never really understood why it was called _falling_ in love. Who would ever want to fall? Cas didn’t. _“Plunging through the air, on fire, wings burning up in the atmosphere.”_ It sounded painful. It left him grabbing for wings that didn’t exist anymore, but he fell anyway. Dean never understood the term, not until that moment. Not until looking at Castiel made him feel like the earth was shaking beneath his feet, like the rug was pulled out from under him. He lost his grip, his stomach in his throat, his heart racing to the finish line, and he loved Castiel like he didn’t have a single choice in the matter, like the blue eyed man in front of him wasn’t just some guy, like he wasn’t constantly choosing Dean over everything else, like he wasn’t this ancient, all powerful being completely enamored by sparks in the darkness and by a green eyed hunter that wasn’t worth a second look.

Dean loved Castiel in a way that was completely earth shattering.

“Dean look,” Castiel said with a large smile as his wrist twisted, drawing a heart in the air between them. It framed Cas’ face, lighting him up and even though it scared him, Dean couldn’t walk away. Not with the white halo around the angels face. Not when he was finally smiling.

Love can hurt, but it isn’t something that you can kick or blow away with a gun.

“That’s awesome, Buddy,” Dean said, his chest squeezing, and his stomach doing flips. 

Castiel snaked an arm around Dean’s waist as they sparkler faded out into a low, orange glow. He rested his head between Dean’s shoulder and neck. “What do you think?” He asked, pressing his lips to Cas’ forehead. “Still hurt?’

Sam crouched down to light another firework, the big grand finale.

“It hurts,” Castiel agreed quietly, closing his eyes. He sucked in a breath, like he forgot he was supposed to be breathing that whole time. “But I think that’s okay. I think that’s human.”

Dean closed his eyes, too, then. He could still see the glow of the fireworks beyond his eyelids, and he smiled into Castiel’s hair. It smelled like outdoors, like grass, and smoke. It smelled a little like home. “You hit the nail on the head, Sweetheart,” he mumbled, wrapping his other free arm around Castiel, pulling him closer.

“Damn!” Sam cheered, in awe. “It’s beautiful.”

Dean opened his eyes, looking down at Castiel, whose eyes were wide open, taking in the show. “Yeah, sure is.” He smiled and ran his fingers along Castiel’s back where his wings used to be.

Love can hurt, but sometimes, the things that hurt are the things that remind Dean that he’s alive. A cold shower, a really spicy burrito, music up all the way despite the constant ringing in his ears, and Castiel. Sometimes pain comes early, because it’s a constant reminder of what is there to lose.

“Guess I better invest in ear plugs,” Sam chuckled, eyeing the two.

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked, tilting his head to the side, not moving his eyes from the show.

“You and Dean.” Sam gestured at the two in their tight embrace. “You’re finally… together, right?”

Castiel turned to look at Sam, his eyebrows coming together in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

Dean felt his muscles tightened around Castiel. Did he misread? How could he have, Castiel kissed _him_.

“Shit, did I just… sorry, man. I thought maybe you were taking the leap. Maybe you were a couple… shouldn’t have assumed,” Sam sputtered out, falling over his words. His green eyes were alarmed, looking at his brother apologetically.

Castiel let out a laugh, his lips tugging into a smile. “We haven’t talked about it explicitly, but I think that we have been a couple for awhile now.”

Heat raced up Dean’s neck and into his cheeks. He cleared his throat and ran his tongue along his bottom lip nervously. “Well, you heard him, Sammy. And, uh, don’t worry about the earplugs. I think maybe we should get our own room next time.” He glanced at Cas for approval, who nodded in return with a mischevious smile.

The fireworks were over, the sparks fading into dark puffs of smoke against the black night sky.

“I’m beat,” Sam said with a yawn. “Come on, lovebirds. Let’s pack up.”

Cas turned to leave, but Dean held him close. “It looks good on you, too.”

“What does?”

“Humanity,” Dean murmured, leaning in to kiss Castiel again, slowly this time. Dean kissed him like his kiss could heal all the broken pieces inside of Castiel. Like he was the glue.

It didn’t matter to Dean if Castiel was broken, not really, because he was broken, too. Maybe the two of them could come together, and the broken pieces could make something new. A mosaic made of pieces of their souls, their smiles, and whispers in the dark. It wasn’t something pretty, or perfect, but it was them, and it was real.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a birthday gift for my girl @thescreechowl! Happy birthday, lady!
> 
> The concept was her idea, and I just kind of ran with it and made it as fluffy and angsty as possible, because it’s me and that’s what I do! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! I am Destiel trash, and I feel that it’s my job to share the pain. <3


End file.
